Divided
by Lady Rin Kayamata
Summary: A mute slave woman working in endless sugarcane fields. A vampire that tends to keep the fact that he drinks blood a secret. Henry and Lizette were two very unlike people in more ways than one, but when they meet by coincidence, will something spark between them? Can a vampire belong with a slave? BEWARE: Grey! Or Dark! Henry. Will have elements from the book and movie.
1. Prologue

Henry Sturges had not seen Abraham in a while. The man had decided - to Henry's dismay- that politics was the best way to fight off vampires.

Henry couldn't have disagreed more.

"Politics, Abraham? Whoever told you to go into politics?"

He had heard all the ruckus Lincoln caused AS standing on a wooden box and rallied the citizens of Springfield, Illinois.

"You fight vampires your way and I shall fight them my way , " Abraham said calmly, ignoring Henry.

His mentor sighed.

"You can't take on slavery, the institution itself. It's the only thing keeping Adam and his followers from destroying the whole country!"

Abraham stopped walking.

"Henry, the time has come for me to put away such childish things. Hunting won't get to the root of the problem."

He pointed to a group of chained slaves, pulled along by a fat, dirty blond man. Their eyes were either wide with fright or dull with hopelessness. Some tried to resist, stopping in their tracks but helpers held guns at the ready as a warning.

"That is the root of our problem here, that is their foundation. Slavery allows them to satisfy their greed and stay plaguing us all. The only effective way to get rid of them is to abolish slavery Henry."

Henry shook his head.

" You're a fool Abraham , " Henry said.

Henry stopped strolling and Lincoln paused, waiting for what else Henry had to say.

Maybe his judgement of Abraham was wrong. Maybe Henry should've found someone else - someone else who would LISTEN.

"I guess I shall take my leave," Henry said.

Abraham nodded and left him, heading towards Josha Speeds store.

Henry's eyes looked back towards the slaves trudging up ahead. They were in such a wretched state. They had torn clothes, and his sharp nose could smell all the must and dirt covering their bodies.

He would be lying if he said his heart was not heavy at the sight. But Henry didn't understand.

What connection did Abraham have with these people? Their skins were swarthy, hair like sheep's wool.

Even if he tried, he couldn't feel any sense of kinship.

They were different...they were...

Niggers.

** Love it or hate it let me know in your reviews pretty please with a cherry on top ?**


	2. Chapter 1

The sun blazed , sending angry rays below. Shifting, chopping with their backs bent, sweat dripping down their black skins were the slaves of the Tucker plantation. For miles spread tall vegetation , towering over everyone except the overseers. They rode around on their horses staring the slaves down.

One overseer with fiery orange hair and angry blue eyes screamed.

"Stop daydreamin' Lizzie!"

The slave woman he addressed exhaled deeply and bent her back once more, chopping down the stalks of the sugar cane. Mosquitoes buzzed in her ear and she slapped at them.

The leaves were sharp, slicing through her skin. Blood oozed out but the worst part was the sweat. It stung, like pouring alchoal into a wound. Despite the pain she could not stop to tend to it.

The young overseer would shriek at her again and beat her black and blue this time around.

Thinking about his grating voice saddened her. He could talk and people would listen. They would hear him speak, for they either feared him if they were slaves or respected him if they were white.  
No one would heed Lizette. She tried to open her mouth, but all the sounds just mushed up together into gibberish with the overseers laughing, sometimes even the slaves too.

There was a bell ringing and a bark that the slaves had 5 minutes to eat lunch before starting work back up again.

Lizette put down her blade and stood upright, her muscles cramped up together and sore.

She stretched out her arms and quickly followed the other slaves to Cecille, who threw pieces of cornbread at them. It was hard, stale, but better than nothing. She had managed to keep working despite her blurry vision and growling stomach.

It had been dusk when Lizette rose up and now it was afternoon. The sun stubbornly rose above her, refusing to fall over the horizon, refusing to be-  
"...Sun down," said a deep voice next to her. "We got til sun down. "

She turned to her right to see Timothy with cornbread in his hand. Lizette only stared and he sighed.

He sometimes forgot she was a mute. Her eyes would stare straight into everyone and she would either stay quiet or make unintelligible sounds.

But, she nodded finally, as if in agreement and smiled a little.

"Don' know why you talkin' to her. She cain't say nothin'," Alice sneered, hands on her hips.  
Timothy groaned and turned around.

"That ain't nice to say Alice. She just like anyone else."

Alice shook her head. In a gentle voice , as if trying to reason with someone she said, "Timothy. She dumb. Ain't got no sense in ha head."  
"Alice! Don' say that!" Timothy hissed, apalled.

"But she is," Alice insisted, unperturbed.

"We both knows it."

He turned around to apologize for Alice's foul attitude and to console Lizette. But when he looked, she was gone without so much a trace.

**Please review ! Its what encourages people to keep going !**


	3. Chapter 2

Work was the usual- chopping through stalks of the sugar cane under the watchful eyes of the overseers. She sometimes tried to close her eyes and imagine the sound of birds and not the buzz of flies. The smell of a rose and not the musk of others. Lizette would close her eyes to imagine these things but in vain.

Reality was far too strong to be won over by the delusions of her mind.

It was a relief when the sky started growing dimmer until finally it was pitch dark.

"Ya'lls can stop and go an' get on back in your quarters."

It was the orange haired overseer who she hated most. Hot tempered and foul, he was on top of her hate list along with Alice.

Speaking of which, Alice was at Timothy's' side in the distance, walking back towards the shacks at the back of the big house, in the outskirts of the field. Lizette shook her head at the sight of Alice.

A slave child at her side demanded , "What you shakin' yo head at ?"

Lizette shrugged , trudging back "home." "Home" was a dirt floor she slept on next to Alice. Timothy slept on the other side of the shithole. There were no windows , and cracks appeared in the roof , splinters sticking out. It smelled of funk and that got her blood boiling here and there.

She couldn't breathe and Lizette wished she could step outside to let fresh air into her lungs. But she couldn't.

Orangehead was sometimes out there hunting or whatever. He drank a lot, and she had the misfortune of fighting – well trying to- him off. Her body dropped a few temperatures still thinking about it. She was around 13 summers. She wasn't sure. Slaves didn't really have birthdays.

Alice had decided to be funny and put worms on her head while she slept. The result was not at all pleasant. Alice ended up with a fist connecting to her jaw , spitting out the salty taste of blood. She cried out and had stirred Timothy from his sleep who scolded Lizette in turn.

Lizette stared, mouth agape.

Alice had put worms on her, Alice..

She watched as he held his sister close to his body, embracing her. Lizette's stomach grew sick and she left the shack , brow furrowed in anger. She ignored the calls for her to come back inside and looked around. It was dark, the moon the only source of light. She enjoyed the cool breeze against her skin. She closed her eyes , enjoying being alone in peace for once.

There was space to stretch, to move around. She would've extended her arms to get the cricks out if someone hadn't suddenly clamped their fingers over her wrist.

Panic rushed through her at the sudden intruder and she turned to see Orangehead. His eyes weren't angry at all- which puzzled her. She was used to seeing him furious , snarling at her. She smelled strong beer on his person , and was surprised that he was not in a drunken stupor like most men would have been. Timothy had told her he'd seen the boy chug down 8 bottles of liquor without vomiting or a hangover.

She wished he was drunk. It would have been more comforting in a strange way. She had to deal with intoxicated slave men before who were a lot bigger than him on Christmas especially. Lizette however always escaped from their grips.

But somehow, Lizette doubted this would be the case with the overseer. His eyes were not clouded over a focused gray orbs trained on her, unblinking.

Lizette forced a sound out of her mouth.

"Ehhh? "

She tried wrestling her wrist out his grip but Orangehead only tightened his fingers, making her squeal.

"Why are you out so late? " His voice sounded exhausted .

She pointed to the shack she shared with Alice and Timothy and made an angry face, growling and kicking at the dirt with her bare feet.

"You were... fighting?" She nodded, a little happy that he figured it out so quickly.

He shook his head and let go her wrist.

"Nigras I swear... " Orangehead muttered.

He then stared at her, looking at his hands then her, his hands back to her again as if pondering a decision.

Orangehead started for her but stopped and pulled at his hair, huffing.

"Just go back to ya' quartas. And don' come out at night." His voice was lower at the last part, as if revealing a forbidden secret.

Lizette stood there in silent defiance. Normally, in the daylight he would slap her or shriek into her ear, but he just...smiled. His eyes widened giving him a bit of a crazed look.

"You really wanna play games with me?" Orangehead's voice wasn't loud, obnoxious but sweet. The polar opposite to his usually gruff demeanor.

She still felt the heat of his fingers on her wrist and brought it up to her face , but a sharp pain ran through it she saw her skin. Bruises were on it in the shape of finger prints.

Lizette shivered, looking at the damage he inflicted with awe and horror. She was sure he had fractured her wrist, or been very close to doing so.

Did she want to play games with him?

No.

She took one last look at him, before she turned on her heel and fled. That night, she slept near Timothy, despite it being improper. He was her only source of warmth in the cold deadly night.


	4. Chapter 3

When she woke , Lizette expected everything to be the same. Work , sweat , work , sweat. She eyed the children with pity , who played around , or did other things. Their smiles would be gone , a mere memory when they became of age. Soon , they would have to endure cutting sugarcane for hours under the overseers.

She wondered why things had to be this way- whites on top , blacks on the bottom. Why couldn't there be peace between the two but only anger , hate , and pain ? Her mother used to speak of white people with bitterness. Her beautiful face scowled , contouring it into something foul , ugly.

" Don' trust whites , " her mother taught constantly. She would repeat the words like a mantra , making sure it stuck into her head. " Understand ? "

Lizette nodded in affirmative.

" Don' trust whites , " her mother said , once more for good measure. Her dark eyes were wet , wet with tears , but she held them back. Her daughter must learn to show no weakness to those pale devils , not even her own kind. This was no paradise , no heaven but hell. Only the toughest survived.

Lizette had wondered why she mourned , why she cried silently by her side that night. Sure , her mama never was too fond of white people in the first place but today , she was especially overwhelmed by sadness.

Lizette looked her mother over carefully , wondering what was different. She saw no marks , bruises , cuts , or burns did this time – her turban and dress looked a bit messy , like she had been rushing to put her clothes on. Her clothes were untidy and she was really , really upset... Lizette tried to put two and two together but failed. Her young mind just pushed it aside.

There were no signs of physical harm on her body so her mother hadn't been hurt. Right ?

That was her mother , Beatrice. She was a field slave too , since her youth. The difference between her and Lizette was Beatrice was used to pick cotton , which was often just as , if not worse , than cutting sugarcane. Lizette watched her mother at work , under the careful eye of a old woman – who spoke very bad English. So bad was her fluency that Lizette's old master Mr. Williams would get frustrated and order her to "shut the fuck up ! "

Whenever she spoke , people giggled or ignored her – negro or white. She earned the ridicule of both races.

And Lizette had asked , with her crude sign language , why didn't she talk ?

The old woman shrugged with indifference. But Lizette urged her to answer and the heavy set woman relented.

" No one listen."

" How- "

" Words useless- no one listen to them. No one listen I speak. So why open mouth ? Betta' to keep it shut. People leave you 'lone. Betta' that way."

Memories such as that pained Lizette. They reminded her of a time that was and never would be again. She wished the old woman was here to talk to her. No one really sought to socialize with her , not sense Lizette lost her voice. The old woman wouldn't laugh at her , but nod in silent empathy. Lizette was certain of it.

But most of all , she found herself tortured by her mother's state that day , the sight replaying in her mind over and over again. She was older now , and more understanding towards woman. Her mother had been in pain , there was no doubt , and yet she held it in. Out of pride. Nothing else her mama hated more than tears.

Tears were for the weak , pathetic. They earned no mercy , not as a slave. If anything , they either annoyed white people or made them giddy with glee. It was as if they were _excited_ by the sight of blood. Every mistake , offense made a lot of those white men happy like it was Christmas.

She knew this because she watched her mother endure countless lashes to her back. And they made her watch on the Williams plantation , along with others , crying tears as blood dripped down Beatrice's back and stained her clothes crimson.

Her crime ?

She stole eggs just so they would have a little more to eat. Two meager eggs. Not that the fact made any difference.

It was another excuse to whip the slave's backs into raw meat , another chance to put niggers in their place.

Lizette breathed out , trying to pull herself back into reality. The past was and always would be gone. Waddling in it would waste time. But the present was no better. It was routine , hot , and exhausting until a high pitched scream rang out.

The slaves all picked up their heads , sending glances to each other.

" What the hell she screamin' for ? " demanded a thin overseer , looking towards Orangehead.

" Wouldn't know." He sounded bored , and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes , shielding them from the sun.

" Hey y'all , it's a body ! " cried out a excited slave.

Some of the slaves stopped work , rushing to the scene. The overseers , curious themselves ignored them and Lizette – seeing it was safe - decided to find out what all the ruckus was about. She walked down the fields , until Lizette neared a crowd of slaves and some overseers on foot surrounding something.

" This ain't good , " whined a little boy named Stevie. He was infamous for being overly emotional. He sniffed his nose , already crying. Lizette pushed past him and the others until she got to the front. Lizette looked at the ground and her jaw dropped. Covered in blood , eyes wide open was a young woman. Her mouth was open , as if screaming in horror. But what disturbed Lizette more than anything else was the puncture wounds on her neck and the top of her...breast.

Uh...some snake or whatever decided to bite her neck and...tit ?

Her face burned at the perverted images running through her head. The corpse's neck was at a weird angle , no doubt broken and Lizette wondered who...or what was responsible. A animal , some said. However , everyone knew it just didn't add up.

If it were an animal the unfortunate slave woman would've been torn in shreds , and what bear would bite anyone on their _breast ? _

" Maybe he wanted some titty , " one of the men leered , and some others cackled. Lizette felt angry and mortified at the same time – angry they were joking at such a bad time , mortified at her vivid imagination conjuring up the scene in which that would've happened.

No. It couldn't be any animal. What ferocious animal would be so... not gentle but particular about where he attacked. And why hadn't his victim screamed...

Alice revealed her theory , after they had been forced back to work and returned home at sun down.

" It was a spook , " Alice insisted , for once not spiteful at the mute. Lizette stopped walking and put a hand on her hip as if to say _oh REALLY ?_

" It's a spook I'm tellin' you it's a spook ! " Lizette ignored her.

Alice threw her hands up.

" Fine , don' believe me. I hope a spook catches YOU ! "

A spook wasn't going to catch Lizette. They weren't even real. She didn't not know of any other world beyond this one.

That night , Alice actually got some cornmeal , pouring by the door a thin white line. She they prayed , sprinkling holy water after blessing the brackish stuff they got all the time , and thanking the "laos." Lizette poked her at the side when she was finished.

" What ? ! "

Lizette pulled back from Alice's screech and pointed at the white line. In a grave voice , Alice answered , " So bad souls won't come in and kill us."

She wanted to laugh at Alice's superstitious beliefs but she froze upon looking outside the window. Lizette could have sworn she saw something orange vanish as soon as she blinked an eye.


	5. Chapter 5

The woman croaked, gasping for air. Ha, a woman ! To think he would even consider her one.

The thought then gave way to anger as Henry remembered the man she had lured and deceived , all the men she left as corpses without so much of an blink of the eye. She was a beast disguised as a woman. He tightened his fingers further around her pale , thin neck. Tears flowed from her eyes.

" Where is he ? " She couldn't breathe so his loosened his grip – but just enough for her to get some air and give him the information he needed.

" I got 'em tied up on meh bed in meh house over yonder , " she said in an accent. She pointed to a white house between a barbershop and bakery. Henry nodded before giving her a quizzical look.

" Why..."

" Precautions ! " she said defensively , averting her eyes in shame. Henry suddenly felt nauseous. He dropped her flat on her bottom. Hard.

" Stand up , " he ordered.

" Repulsive, " Henry frowned at her.

The vampiress coughed , smoothing her red hair with her fingers.

" A woman's got needs too ya' know."

" You're not a woman , " Henry said curtly.

She narrowed her blue eyes at him.

" You're one to talk , " she muttered quietly.

The woman rose to her feet , looking around for an escape route. There was none. Despite Annie's age of 100 years , Henry was at least twice that age give or take and hence far more quick and stronger than she. His power was no joke; had Annie been human her neck bones would've been crushed in his hold.

" Take me to your house , " Henry said.

Swallowing , Annie walked in front of him , entering her home. The moon shined. It was beautiful. Any other day Annie would've smiled. But today she would not. Today would be her last. Never had she met a vampire like him. Even the more humane ones were not as hateful towards their more bloodthirsty counterparts. She shivered. They had much more to fear from their own kind it seemed than humans.

Annie opened the door , the hallways dark. Cobwebs had collected in the corners of the house and Henry shook his head. This was the stereotypical vampire's lair , dark and foreboding. Annie walked upstairs , her eyes searching for a weapon , anything, but she found nothing not even to maim him with. There was a window in front. She could run through it , break the glass and escape.

As if reading her mind , Henry said, " Don't you dare." His voice was hard.

" I wasn't gonna do a damn thing ! " She muttered to herself , " Stupid Brit."

Annie finally stopped in front of an splintered , plain brown door and turned the knob , pushing herself in. There was a muffled voice and Henry pushed the vampiress to the side , closing the door behind him. He looked at the bed , disgust settling in. The white sheets of the bed were stained with red spots , droplets. He could see signs of struggle – a hole had been punched in the wall next to the closet , soiled by dry blood. But what was more important was the body restrained on the bed.

The man was tan , with black strands of hair on his sweaty forehead. Tears dripped down his face , and his brown eyes were wide in fear at the sight of both of them. Each wrist and ankle was tied tightly to a bed post , leaving him immobilized. He was naked except for his drawers. Purple and blue bruises were etched into the flesh of his neck , right eye , and his abdomen. She had been a rough and desperate feeder; puncture wounds could be seen on his neck wrists and stomach . There was a knife wound on his chest , stitched back up neatly. His captor had sliced through his skin with a knife , and happily lapped up all the blood like a lowly dog.

Henry was a calm man. A reasonable one. He tried to keep emotions from taking charge but he couldn't. Not after seeing the extent of the damage she had done. Henry turned to Annie , who cowered near the closet.

" Please I - "

He didn't let her finish. He was just a blur when he charged at her , gripping her hair tightly. Annie winced. Gosh , it felt like he was trying to pull all her hair by the roots. That would hurt; She knew he could.

" Why ? Why are you doing this ? This is who I am , " Annie groaned in pain , her head being pulled back.

" Excuses ! Don't try to justify your savagery. "

" Who the hell are you ? God ? " the Scottish woman said through gritted teeth. " Actin' so damn holy . You're a vampire. Cursed. Not no human. "

" I didn't come to be lectured. I came to save this man and for information. Things have been too quiet as of late." Annie smirked , looking up at him.

" You don't know do ya ' ? "

" What ? "

" They all ran down south. All of 'em. Well , a large amount. That's a vampire's paradise. The south."

She would tell him. He would kill her anyway. Why keep it a secret? Now she had some control. Henry released her hair , she was complying. Annie rubbed her aching head. Henry had only been to the south A few times. It was not really his favorite place. Not one bit.

" Slaves. That's why they're moving there."

She smiled , her eyes bright with insanity. " Yes … fact I was gonna move on down there meself. No one would care if it's niggers I'm killin'. "

Henry remembered his falling out with Abraham. Abolishing slavery is the only way...Henry could see Abraham's point. This kept the vampires alive. It kept them going , drinking all the red nectar they could at endless supply.

" So that's where it really is. "

The south. He knew it was a hotspot for vampires. But Henry was hesitant . He would be there...waiting...the father of all vampires.

" Adam. He got a plan for us all. Says one day we won't have to hide in the shadows no more. One of these days. We won't just be drinkin' from no niggers anymore either. But every single human in this country. And we will get rid of traitors like ya'self."

Adam.

" You worship him, don't you ? " Annie looked him straight in the eye.

" He will bring us to glory. You wait and see. A country of own , just like he said. I ain't got no regrets for what I've done. "

Henry couldn't stand this horrid conversation or this sick woman , indoctrinated by Adam and so fervently loyal to him. He was ready to silence her once and for all. Henry readied his hand before aiming for her heart. He penetrated her flesh and blood dripped on the floor , staining his sleeves. Annie looked at him , gagging and choking on her own blood.

She whispered through her red stained teeth , " I know why you're killing me. " He dug his hand deeper , wanting to kill her and shut her voice but it quietly continued , unperturbed. " You're killing me because you see the one thing you can 't stand..." Sneering at him , she continued with all the strength she could gather .

"Yourself."


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday.

Lizette felt a bit happier as she sliced her blade through the sugar cane stalks. Tomorrow was Sunday, also known as "the Sabbath ", where there would be a day of rest. That was really the only good thing that ever happened on this accursed plantation. But even the "good" things the young woman took with a grain of salt.

There was always some ulterior motive for Master Tucker's "generosity ". Master Tucker was not a nice man and infamous for his apathy, even towards his white help. Lizette hated the sight of the man and pitied the slaves who worked around him in the Big House every single day. Life in the fields was harsh, but at least Lizette was spared Master Tucker's presence.

It was as she chopped through the sugar cane that she felt someone staring hard at her from behind. Lizette's stomach felt sick at the thought and she tried to ignore the feeling. The overseers were spread apart and further ahead with other slaves. There were only a few with her and they were also not very close to Lizette's current location.

The pressure was too much and she finally stopped her work, stood up straight and turned around.

No one was there.

Sighing in annoyance she turned back around but nearly jumped. Orangehead was suddenly there. His speed bewildered Lizette, and he had gone unnoticed by her. Orangehead had his arms folded under his chest and he looked down at her, his blue eyes cold.

"You." Orangehead said simply.

Lizette cocked her head to the side in a questioning manner. Yes? What about her? She had been working without a fuss, so why did he pester her now?

"I suggest you's say good-bye to ya' lil' friends."

Friends. Since when had she had any? But in any case, why would Lizette be the one to leave?

As if reading her thoughts , Orangehead continued , "Master Tucker is in debt- he owe money ta' people thanks ta' wastin' money gamblin' and buyin' stuff he don' need."

Lizette opened her mouth in a silent "O". It was surprising and yet not surprising at all. The reason it was not surprising was because Master Tucker had hosted many parties. He also spent money on the finest clothes, much to the Mistress's displeasure. Had he been stingier with his money, this whole situation could have been avoided.

Or maybe Master Tucker's wasteful spending could be a good thing. He was not a humane man at all. He was as unhesitant in punishing slaves as he was spending his fortune away.

Lizette remembered when a field slave had ran away some years back, but had been recaptured.

_Master Tucker didn't speak. He just sighed and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, but everyone, overseer and slave, knew he was boiling with rage._  
_They all waited in anticipation at Master Tucker's next action._

_"You take care of him," Master Tucker looked at an old, bulky overseer._

_"How you's suppose I do that?" questioned the man._

_"Do whatever you feel is necessary," Master Tucker said lowly," I don't care very much. Just make sure once you're done, he won't even dream of running away ever again. That is the penalty for niggers who disobey me." He stared at the field save long and hard, but the black man only stared back in defiance, instead of cowering_ _in fear._

_That was no good. No._

_"I want you to get him and get him good," Master Tucker growled towards the overseer, "until he realizes his place. I won't have any uppity niggers on this plantation, not as long as I live!"_

_He then walked up to the man, grabbing his chin tightly in his long fingers. He forced the slave to look him in the eye._

_"You already tried to run away. And now you further disobey me by looking me in the eye as if I am your equal. You are not my equal, you are a fucking nigger, the tainted son of Cain!" Master Tucker then pushed him away and spoke to the rest of the slaves._

_"And to the rest of you, disobedience earns you brutality. There will be no mercy given to you. You all best believe that I am judge, jury, and executioner. I am the goddamn law so long as you work for me!" he raised his voice at the slaves._

_"As long as you niggers work hard as I command you, you will be spared. Otherwise, I will beat you, I will brand you, and I will starve you until you learn who is in charge."_

_He then closed his mouth, looked around the crowd before promptly returning back to the Big House._

_The field slave suffered immensely. The overseers tied him to a tree to await his lashes, each wrist tied together by a rope encircling the tree. He was further humiliated when they tore off his clothes, leaving him naked for all the slaves to see._

_All you could hear was a cracking sound and his blood curling scream. His cries tore through Lizette's heart like a knife and she wanted to cover her eyes to spare herself the gore, but she could not. Lizette's eyes looked on in terror and twisted awe at the welts along his ebony back as they oozed blood and split open._

_And there was yet another thing that troubled her. No one heard his pleas, his pleas for mercy. No one reached out to help him. Lizette wanted to wipe away his tears and push the overseers away. But she stood there, silent like everyone else._

_Why did the Lord give him a voice at all, a voice no one would heed, a voice that would fall on deaf ears?_

_She wanted to laugh too at every damn slave there, even some of the overseers who were not snickering like the others. They mocked her for inability to speak and yet here they were, not a peep coming from them. Who were they to say anything? Despite their vocal chords working, they would be ignored by Master Tucker. They were beneath him and not of any importance, just like she was to them. They chose to say nothing, especially the negroes. They chose to do the very thing they taunted her for._

_To be mute._

_And the field slave fell quiet too. They starved him. They put an iron mask with hooks protruding from the collar so he could find no rest. Gone was his bravery. His rebellion grew thin and his body followed. Hunger gnawed at his stomach and yet he had to work in the heat, with all the mosquitoes and the screeches of the overseer. They had silenced him. They had forced him to shut up and be mute. Just like Lizette._

Pushing away her memories, Lizette pointed to herself and cocked her head to the side. Orangehead looked confused at first but her gestures eventually made sense.

"You askin' me why," he scowled. Lizette nodded. Why was she being sold off and why was Orangehead telling her this personally?

The man looked ready to ignore her, but for some odd reason he relented.

"You know too much," he said sinisterly, "now get the hell back to work."

She stood, confused.

"NOW NIGGER!"

Quickly, Lizette shook out of her daze and picked up her blade, cutting sugarcane down. She knew too much? Well Lizette thought she knew very little to be honest. He really wanted her gone…it only made sense since she apparently was aware of something no one, especially not a negro should know.  
Was it so bad that her penalty for this knowledge was to be sold off?

Her stomach felt nauseous at the thought of being sold off. There was a high chance the next master could be crueler than Master Tucker. She heard some slaves were mutilated or outright killed and replaced immediately by other slaves in different plantations.

The Tucker Plantation was no paradise but it was familiar. She knew what she could get away with and what would earn her a harsh thrashing.

Lizette shook her head. No. It didn't matter where they sold her because she would be meek. Obedient to whatever master she had. And she would wait. Wait for a chance to run away. Probably her only chance. All she could hope All she could hope was that her next master would be no crueler than Master Tucker.

Even if the next master proved worse , Lizette would not give up her dream of being free.

The dream of escaping her mother's wretched fate of dying in chains.

**Sorry I took forever to update , had writers block ! What did you guys think ? Also I have a question relevant to the next chap - could a field slave ever turn into a house slave ? Anyone who thinks they can answer this , thanx and lots of love :D SUMMER VACATION YES**


	7. Chapter 7

Lizette slept in longer. It was Sunday. Her only break and perhaps her last. She felt herself shiver at the prospect of receiving a new master. Would he abuse her ? Would there be no days off whatsoever ? How likely was she to die of yellow fever or overwork on another plantation ?

Lizette was unsure and tried to just focus on something else. Anything else. That distraction came sooner than she thought.

" Ay , wake-up !" Alice demanded, nudging the woman in her side with a foot. Lizette grabbed her foot before it could go on for another kick and pushed Alice away. Hard. The woman nearly fell on her behind before catching herself.

" Man , I hope you get it today."

Lizette just narrowed her eyes , sitting up. She rubbed her side, now sore and tender thanks to Alice. Gosh , Lizette wanted to punch her out again like at the prank for the worms. But it wasn't worth wouldn't have to see Alice's ugly face again. Lizette looked around for Timothy but saw no one.

" He waitin' for us. We gotta go to mass, " Alice answered , seeing Lizette's confusion.

. She hated it. Another thing about Master Tucker was that he was religious. A religious slave owner was even more maddening than a secular one.

_God said slaves shall obey their masters. Slaves should love their masters. _It was all terrible. She remembered her mother struggling to reconcile that with the fact that she believed in Jesus and that was one of his commands.

Lizette followed Alice, Timothy was already sitting amid other slaves on the grass, all surrounding Mr.O , a preacher.

" Hurry on up! You's late, " screeched Mr. O at the two. Lizette ran across , pulling up her skirts with the grass crunching under her bare feet. Alice just trudged behind, despite being so insistent that Lizette quicken her pace. Lizette sat near Timothy and Alice finally arrived , plopping right next to them.

Mr. O then opened his little black Bible and started reading about the creation of the world.

" And God said let there be light and there was light -"

What light ? There had never been any. Not for her or anyone else.

" And he said let there be darkness and there was darkness."

There was darkness alright. Always darkness. She could hear a child wheezing away behind her, its mother whispering words of comfort.

" You gonna be alright John, I promise."

_Those were the words, no LIES Lizette had been told by her own mother , as she held Lizette in her arms , tears streaming down her face. Something warm dripped down the side of Lizette's face and she reached a hand to wipe it away , but Beatrice held her arm._

_" No ," commanded her mother , " leave it 'lone."_

_Lizette would have said yes, but her head was throbbing and her vision blurry. She was seeing in two. There was so much commotion and the bark of the overseer as she laid in her mother's arms in a white sea of cotton._

She didn't quite remember what caused that pain in her head or the warm substance dripping down the side of her face. She had dreams but they were not memories just mere fantasies conjured by her mind. Her world would never have any light in it. That was the privilege reserved only for white people. They could pursue their dreams while she toiled for them.

_Lizette remembered asking why they were slaves if Jesus or God was so merciful._

_"That's cuz they worship a evil God," Alice proclaimed , rather loudly._

_" Alice- lower yo' voice for they come in here and we get in trouble !" The trio was supposed to be asleep but often they stayed up anyway._

_" Them white folks pray to a evil god who let men chain up other men. Is it any wonder we is slaves ? They own book says it's ok !"_

_" They could be lyin'" Timothy said._

_" Then you's dumber than I thought Timmy. If they lyin' bout one part of the Bible, what makes you so sure they ain't lyin' about the rest ?"_

_Lizette nodded , agreeing with Alice for once. Timothy fell silent , unable to answer._

_" Exactly , now the Laos-"_

_Both Lizette and Timothy groaned._

_" Ain't no one believe in that voodoo shit girl, "Timothy muttered._

_" It works , " Alice insisted , "I swear it ! It keeps bad spirits out ! "_

Lizette often could recall little about her childhood in contrast. She dreamed a lot though. Dreamed of horrible dreadful things, especially about her past masters. Some of them had sharp canines, drinking red wine and grinning at her with crimson stained teeth...almost like blood.

Now the sermon was nearing its close and Lizette hoped that hateful verse would not be recited.

" As advice to all you children of God , slaves obey ye masters. God has written for you to be faithful to your masters without question. You must bare no ill-will towards your masters."

Lizette clenched her jaw. She cared little for her masters at all. All of them were sons of bitches who had oppressed her for far too hated everyone of them. There was no loyalty. No friendship between master and slave. Just exploitation and compliance.

That was already perverse in and of itself, so to actually love your master was beyond twisted. A lot of house slaves were like that , but so were some field slaves. She couldn't comprehend the latter. Personally , every day for her was a reminder of her lowly status and the burden she would be forced to bear. The eat of the sun, the growl of her belly, and the whip of the overseers ensured she would never forget her master was well her MASTER and not a friend, most certainly not a lover.

The thought made her want to vomit. She never wanted to forget and end up not only enslaved in body but mind too. Lizette stood up Alice and Timothy after the sermon and felt her heart drop as it really , really sunk in. This was , possibly, the last time she would see them or tomorrow at least.

" Lizette , you alright ?" Timothy asked.

Should she lie ? Shrug it off , like she always did ? Or tell the truth?

Lizette looked at the Big House up ahead, standing white and tall in all its glory. Flowers grew at the left and right side of the house. On the outside it was beautiful but a ruse hiding the vileness in the inside.

Orangehead's words ran through her head. You know too much. Well why not just kill her or roughen her up a bit ? Selling her off would not be necessary at all. Not that she wanted to get beat up or killed mind you it just made more sense. Perhaps he was unwilling to do either but still paranoid about her , and decided to convince Master Tucker to auction her off.

It didn't matter now. What was done was done. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a strange voice. It did not resemble the southern twang she had grown up so used to not even French. Lizette looked left over Alice's head and saw an unfamiliar man talking to the preacher.

" Excuse me Reverend , would you happen to know the whereabouts of ?" She heard a faint, but crisp British accent. What was a British man doing here ?

" Oh , he just left on horse."

The Brit wore black trousers and a matching jacket and had raven black hair .

" Thank you. I wish you a blessed Sunday ! " He then turned away and caught her staring at him. Lizette could not see his eyes, hidden behind tinted glasses. Quickly she looked away , embarrassed. Who was this man ? What was his connection to Orangehead ? Was the foreigner the reason he left yesterday ?

" Lizette are you alright ?", Timothy asked yet again , noticing how she was looking at the ground.

" Yea.. girl why you lookin' at your feet ?" Surprisingly , she wrapped an arm around Lizette.

She looked up at the brother and sister, comforted. But she was hoping , in anxiety , that the man would not come over offended and what not. She was taught not to stare, especially at white people. But Lizette spoke too soon.

Now , there was the sound of footsteps coming toward their way. Slowly, she looked up and saw his eyes looking straight at hers.

" Hey , whose that white man comin' here ?" Alice asked her. Lizette shrugged. How was she supposed to know ?

" Don' worry" Timothy assured her, " we'll stay with you."

" Uh ... I think I might wanna spli-" Timothy sent Alice a mean glare and she stayed put. Lizette smiled faintly at Timothy and didn't blame Alice for wanting to flee at all. Her smile waned as finally , the stranger stopped in front of them. Alice's arm tightened around her , not only to comfort Lizette but herself as well. Lizette did not dare look up at the man again.

"What are your names ?" She heard him ask.

" Timothy."

"Alice."

Lizette didn't reply.

" Well what's your name ?"

Lizette still looked at her feet thought she knew he addressed her.

" Her name is Lizette sir, " Timothy said tensely.

" You can't speak ?" Lizette wondered if he was taunting her but his voice sounded sincere enough. So she shook her head no.

Oddly, enough he sounded pleased with the fact.

" Then you're the woman I'm looking for ."

**A/N:Should be obvious who it is. What do you guys think ?**


	8. Chapter 8

Henry hadn't expected to find Lizette so easily, but he did. Without the help of Tom, the man he saved from Ana, he would have been utterly lost.

" Do you know anything? Perhaps there were other vampires she spoke to ?" Henry questioned Tom.

The man rubbed his wrists, which were purple from the tightness of the rope binding them.

" There was a man who would come. I never got a good look at 'em- I was always bein' blindfolded. His name was William, William Blake. And he sometimes complained about some mute nigra on the Tucker Plantation."

Henry nodded.

" Why ?"

" He said she may be quiet, but she was a smart nigger. Always confused, but not because she was dumb. She was always thinking things over too deeply. That could only lead to trouble," Tom said.

"What do you mean by trouble ?" Henry pressed him.

" He thought she'd catch on to what he really was", Tom continued , "and that he was feeding off humans. So, he decided to have her sold off. Especially with the master weighed down by debt."

Looking at Lizette, the vampire couldn't help but look down on her. She quite frankly smelled musty and it was difficult to keep his nose from wrinkling at her in distaste. Her dress was worn out and soiled by dirt, sweat, and dried dark stains that were und blood.

Gosh, the woman needed to wash up! It did not come to mind yet that maybe Lizette wanted to clean herself but was never allowed the right to do so.

Lizette honestly looked stunned at his words. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement as if to ask, "why?"

"William. You know him?"

She looked to the left and right from a woman to a man. They both had slightly arched eyebrows and deep-set eyes, no doubt related in some way. Maybe even sibilings. Lizette didn't respond in any way. Only stared, shifting her foot in discomfort.

Henry sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

" You honestly know nothing about the man ?"

Lizette shrugged her shoulders.

Alright. He was going to have to approach this differently. Perhaps not as straightforward, but more subtly yet effectively like he did with Abraham.

He walked away from her, relieved and yet displeased. Relieved to be away from the stench of her body and yet annoyed that the woman was not giving him the information he wanted. He usually used his fists to get it out of people, but Henry couldn't do that. First of all, she was not his property. Secondly, she could not say what he wanted to hear, being dumb. And lastly, it gave him a strange feeling.

It didn't sit well with him to beat Lizette for not telling him. At least for now it didn't. The poor thing looked pitiful and filthy. Her refusal was not out of malice, but fear and cautiousness. It was like beating a lame horse for not galloping fast enough. Brutal and foolish.

He recalled Tom's words.

_So he decided to have her sold off. Especially with the master weighed down by debt._

The owner of the plantation had money problems. He would no doubt be desperate to make as much profit as possible and would auction off slaves for as much money as he could.

Henry could just buy Lizette as a slave.

He stopped at the dirt road running pass the plantation. What would he do with a slave? Henry had never owned another and didn't know what it felt like to own a slave, but he needed information. And maybe Lizette wouldn't just link him to the information he wanted. The slave could link him to other vampires, the whole swarm of them in the south like Annie had said.

However, once he got the information what would he do with Lizette ? Just return her back to Mr. Tucker?

Give her freedom? Henry doubted she would fare any better as a free person. Dirty, mute, and a negro? What future would she have?

He shook the thoughts away. Who cared about her future. He had a mission; to kill all vampires and he would complete it. It was all that mattered. It would be such a waste of money to buy her for the sole purpose of finding other vampires, information that would not be so very long and complicated.

Henry couldn't think of any other good that would come out of this. He didn't need a cook or a gardener, and he definitely had no plantation in Illinois for Lizette to toil on. Hmm...

His house was messy. Especially his study after his drunken nights. Lizette could clean it. Yes, she could keep his house in order and that was Henry's only consolation.

He turned back around, away from the dirt road, walking backs towards the Big House.

Henry would meet and purchase Lizette. Then, finally he could try to coax the information out of her.

**A/N: So was my portrayal of Henry spot on or needs tinkering? Make him a little more light (he is not as much of a an ass) or darken him a bit more? I find it difficult sometimes to make him racist, but to keep him in character. With Henry, its a lot more internal and kind off passive aggressive- I would find it hard to imagine him beating a slave to death but I could imagine him looking down on them and treating them like children as of result. Do you agree or disagree ?**


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